


I want to hide the truth, I want to shelter you

by Bluethenstaub



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, He/Him Pronouns For Everyone, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, it's not worse than the series version, really light like 1 drop in a sea of humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21942814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluethenstaub/pseuds/Bluethenstaub
Summary: For the final punishment, Heaven and Hell decide to punish Aziraphale and Crowley together in the same place.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 78





	I want to hide the truth, I want to shelter you

**Author's Note:**

> This is a secret santa for tio-trile °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
> 
> Also happy holidays to everyone else!

| 

Uriel ties Crowley to an office chair in Heaven and they wait for Gabriel and Michael who are unangelically late.

What would Aziraphale do in such a situation? Oh, Crowley knows. He'll sit here and ignore both the angels keeping a close eye on him.

That bastard's too cool to acknowledge anyone he hates.

So that's what Crowley does, too.  
  
---|---  
  
Aziraphale wakes up and he's in a dark room in Hell, his wrists chained together. _How did I get here?_ he asks himself. He frowns. He was in St. James's Park with Crowley when Uriel and Sandalphon kidnapped Crowley right from under his nose.

And he was supposed to be a protector. He can't protect the Garden from demons, he can't protect himself from getting discorporated--to be fair, this had been an awful situation and shouldn't have happened that way. But it could have been worse. Just imagine if a human had stepped into the circle. Even if the human was Shadwell who was, to put it lightly, not the nicest person around--and he certainly can't protect Crowley, disguised as himself, from getting kidnapped by Heaven.

And then-- Oh, yes. Hastur had hit him with a crowbar. Now that would explain why his head hurts.

|   
  
Aziraphale's seated in a conference room on a wooden chair. One of the legs is slightly shorter than the others. Right across him is a worn out poster, telling him the encouraging words:

You

DON’T

MATTER

How utterly nice. Now Aziraphale understands why Crowley doesn't like this place. It's disgusting, it's dark, it's cluttered with broken stuff, and it smells as if something has died here and no one bothered to clean it up. And something's wrong with the pipes. All the walls are covered in something moist. Aziraphale doesn't even want to think about it.

| 

Crowley really doesn't miss Heaven. The whole place is too wide, too empty, too bright.

The light hurts his eyes and he doesn't even have his sunglasses.

It's too warm. Not that kind of warmth you have in Hell, not the warmth of bodies too close, sharing the same air until there's none left - Hell ran out of it even before the beginning of time - combined with the dampness and bad smell of leaking pipes.

Hell is an unforgiving warmth. The warmth you get when you're in a glass building on a hot summer day, and no one ever installed air conditioning.  
  
So. This is what Hell looks like.

| 

So. This is what Heaven looks like nowadays.  
  
It's absolutely disgusting. Now he understands why Crowley doesn't like to be here.

| 

Well, at least the view is nice.  
  
Someone's trying to open the door to the room Aziraphale is stored in. First they push the door, then pull when it doesn't open, finally and push again.

It's two demons in bad Roman costumes, their bodies almost completely covered by heavy cloaks.

Without a word, one of them unties the rope which bounds Aziraphale to this horrible chair and pulls him up.

One to his left, one to his right, they bring him out of the room.

| 

Suddenly, without any warning, Gabriel's in the room, walking towards him in long strides.

He stops in front of him.

"Aziraphale," he says and smiles. "Aziraphale, Aziraphale. So glad you could join us."

"Well, you could have just sent a message. I mean a kidnapping in broad daylight-"

"Call it what you want. An extraordinary rendition."

Yes, and that prick probably came up with it, and he's so proud of himself.

"Now what did I have to hear? What did I have to see? You fraternized with the enemy?"  
  
Aziraphale walks carefully. _Walks_. He tries to saunter like Crowley but the hip movement is impossible. He doesn’t have the slightest idea how Crowley is able to move like that.

They bring him through wet halls into a theatre. An old public bathroom?

Aziraphale has no idea how he'd describe it, but there are three chairs in this room. Dagon, Beelzebub, and Hastur are seated on them, some tiny demon looking like a fat dragon stands close to them.

In front of them is an empty space where the guards bring Aziraphale.

And behind him? Hordes of demons, breathing down his neck, being perfectly quiet, waiting for what is to come.

| 

"Well, actually-"

"You know what? I don't care about your excuses. It was one act of treason, and you've averted the Apocalypse. One act of treason and you've destroyed _everything_ we've worked for. You've worked for. Means this nothing to you, Aziraphale?"

"I think the greater good demanded-" Crowley starts but Gabriel shushes him once again.

"Don't talk to me about the greater good, sunshine. I'm the Archangel Fucking Gabriel. The greater good was we were finally going to settle things with the opposition once and for all."

Crowley would disagree, but there's no point in getting into this debate with Gabriel.  
  
“Hey, guys," Aziraphale says, trying to mimic Crowley's coolness (swagger?) as best he can. "Nice place you got here."

"Not for you it won't," Hastur answers.

Aziraphale ignores him. "Could do with a coffee table. Maybe some house plants." House plants! Now that's exactly what Crowley would suggest. Aziraphale's very proud of himself.

"Silenzze!" Beelzebub buzzes in. "The prisoner will approach."

_All right_ , he thinks. Maybe he needs to step up the act even more. "Love to. So. The four of us. Rubber of Bridge? Barbershop quartet?" As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Aziraphale realizes his mistake. Crowley would never play bridge. Not to speak of singing with other people. Under the shower - yes. Other people - no.

Luckily, none of the other demons notices.

"The Trial of a Traitor," Beelzebub answers his silly question instead.

"Lord Beelzebub. You are...?"

"I am the judge!" Of course, he is. That's bloody obvious. But mocking them never hurts.

"I am the prosecutor," Hastur adds. He's trying to play himself up as more important than he is. Well, he is a Duke of Hell, but still, not one of the important ones. Not one of the famous ones every child hears about during their transformative years.

Hastur being the prosecutor leaves only one conclusion. "And so Dagon here is defending me?"

Dagon smiles. "'Fraid not. I'm just here in case there's anything you did they forgot."

Ah. Very thoroughly. As expected from the Lord of Files.

"Now, let'zz begin. Duke Hastur?"

Hastur grins and starts to list Crowley's crimes.

| 

"I'm very disappointed in you, Aziraphale."

Crowley's guts clench together in a way they shouldn't. This is Gabriel, he's not even Crowley's boss. He has never worked directly under him. And yet, these words hit him harder than he thought they ever could.

Gabriel doesn't notice Crowley's inner conflict. “Now, any words from our new associates?"

Uriel, and Sandalphon shake their heads.

"Not yet," Michael confirms.

Gabriel rolls his eyes and faces back to Crowley. "You're going to like this. I bet you didn't see this one coming!"

Crowley blinks. Alright, he thinks to himself. He didn't dip into a theatre career all these years ago for nothing. He's supposed to be Aziraphale now. That guy has confidence. No need for anyone to know that Crowley's on the brink of crying. Talk back!

"So, I don't get a trial?"

"A trial?"

The Archangels laugh. But not Gabriel. "No, what for? We know you're guilty. We have seen it with our own eyes. I have seen it in person. We've, well, Michael has gone through the Earth observation files. You've been fraternizing with the demon Crowley for a while now. So we do with you what we're going to do with all fallen angels."

"You're going to kick me out? But you haven't kicked anyone out since the Great Revolution."

"The Great Rebellion, Aziraphale."

"Right."  
  
| 

"You're right. We're not going to make you a demon. That would hardly be a punishment for you. You'd probably love it, spending all of eternity with the demon Crowley."

"Your boyfriend," Sandalphon adds.

"Yes, your boyfriend. Living together in sin. No, we've got something entirely else. You're going to love it, Aziraphale!"

Crowley needs a minute to make sense of all this. Crowley is Aziraphale's boyfriend? That is news to him. They live together in sin? They're going to do with him what they do with all fallen angels but they haven't kicked anyone out since back then?

That can only mean one thing. Well, two. First, that the Archangels have ‘done away with’ other angels. Second, that Aziraphale--that is, Crowley, disguised as Aziraphale--is about to disappear similarly.

Now that was unexpected. Really unexpected. Crowley hopes that Aziraphale never learns this.

Gabriel claps his hands. "Now, I don't want to wait anymore. Let's go to the Room of Punishment!"  
  
"-and the murder of a fellow demon, a crime I saw with my own eyes!"

Wow. That was a really long list. They have added every little misstep, every breath in the wrong direction, anything Crowley has ever done.

"Izz there anything you have to zzay in your defenzze?" Beelzebub asks.

Aziraphale can only shrug. No. Crowley really has done all these things. Now better get over with it.

"Creatures of Hell," Beelzebub continues, "you have heard the evidenzze against the demon known as Crowley. What izz your verdict?"

The demons in the back of the room chant it all together: **_Guilty_**.

He expected nothing less.

"Do you have anything to zzay before we take our vengeance on you?"

Aziraphale shrugs. "What's it going to be? An eternity in the deepest pit?"

"Oh no. We got zzomething even better for you waiting. Everyone get up, we're leaving."

|   
  
They take him up the stairs and into a room on the ground floor. The hordes of hell follow them, all wanting to see the execution of Crowley, the traitor. They're allowed to watch, it's good for their morale. They feel better (or worse?) about themselves and see what happens to traitors, so they never try to imitate the traitors. How many executions has Crowley had to witness in the past?

Crowley told him before that Hell has a bit of an overpopulation problem due to the fact that the rooms are really small and cramped. And since some demons, unlike certain angels, are breeding the whole time, maybe this is one way to keep the population constant. Maybe that's why Hell kills their demons for the slightest misdeed.

| 

They've taken him down the stairs and into a room on the ground floor.

It's only him and the four Archangels. Where’s the last archangel at? No one knows. Maybe he's on maternity leave.

Crowley's all alone with the Archangels, for an execution they will pretend never happened.

How many other angels have died like this, all alone because they fell in love with Earth? How many other angels have died because they disappointed Gabriel, Michael, or Raphael?  
  
On one side of the room they enter is an empty tub standing in front of a window wall showing the next room. And on the other side...

| 

On one side of the room is an empty ring of stones laid out in front of a window wall showing the next room. And coming in on the other side...  
  
Crowley.

| 

Aziraphale.  
  
"We thought of a punishment which fits the crime," Hastur explains.

| 

"That's-"

"Your boyfriend, yes. You did all this together, so we thought, why not punish you together? So we came up with something completely new," Gabriel explains.  
  
"Cooperation with our old enemies!" Dagon says. But Aziraphale's eyes are fixed on Crowley in the other room, posing as him, standing straight in the face of Gabriel. This is how he sees him? Standing up straight in the face of Gabriel?

| 

Michael leaves the room, grabbing a glass jug filled with water Crowley hadn't noticed before.  
  
Michael enters the room through a side door.

The council backs up a little, almost unnoticeable. The hordes of Hell, on the other hand, all take two steps back. This is Michael, after all, who can smite them all in seconds without breaking a sweat.

| 

A demon enters the room through a side door. No one important, just a random low-level demon. Of course, even though they cooperate, the last thing Hell wants to do is show Heaven respect by sending someone equally important as an archangel over.  
  
_I'd never stand there with that much confidence_ , Aziraphale thinks looking at Crowley. And oh Lord, this is what he looks like from this angle? Maybe Crowley is right and he really should get a new coat, given that they survive this.

| 

Crowley's eyes wander over to the other side, meeting Aziraphale's. So this is how he sees him? Standing straight before the trials of hell. Crowley would never have so much self-pride.  
  
"Oi, wank-wings, is this the stuff?" Hastur asks.

You can say what you want about demons, but Hastur has guts. No one up in heaven would ever dare to call Michael something like that. Aziraphale doesn't even dare to think it!

But Michael, in all his calmness, ignores it. "It is," he states coldly and holds the jug into Hastur's direction.

"You, uh... Ought to do the honours. I've seen what this stuff can do.

Michael starts to pour the water into the tub.

| 

"Why is your side of the room so much cleaner?" the demon asks as he enters the room, holding a basket in his hands. "And it smells really nice. Like daisies or lavender or roses or something."

Without waiting for an answer, the demon pours the basket into the stone ring which is immediately filled with a huge pillar of fire, burning bright.

The Archangels back off a bit. Understandable. After all, this could kill them.  
  
"That's Holy Water," Aziraphale comments.

"The holiest, yes," Michael answers with a cold smile.

So he made it himself.

| 

It's Hellfire.  
  
The water pours.

| 

"Of course, we have to wait for the opposition. It's not punishment if you don't die at the same time."  
  
The water pours.

| 

"You’ll suffer double," Uriel adds.  
  
The water pours.

| 

The demon leaves the room and walks over to Hell's side again.  
  
The water pours.  
  
The water pours.

| 

Uriel removes some dirt from his fingernails.  
  
The water pours.  
  
The water pours.

| 

Sandalphon yawns.  
  
The water pours.  
  
The water pours.

|   
  
The water pours.

| 

Gabriel walks over to Uriel and Sandalphon, not letting the fire pillar out of his sight.  
  
The water pours.

|   
  
The jug is finally empty!

|   
  
"Uh, it'zz not that we don't truzzt you, Michael, but obviously we don't truzzt you. Hastur, tezzt it," Beelzebub says, which makes no sense to Aziraphale. If Heaven goes to the trouble of giving Holy Water to Hell, why would they give them fake Holy Water? They want to punish him and Crowley at the same time, they have no reason for that.

Judging by Michael's smile, the archangel thinks the same. But as Hastur grabs the little demon usher by the tail, Beelzebub waves his hand and Michael leaves the room with the empty jug. The demon complains and begs for his life, but Hastur doesn't care as he lowers him into the tub.

Like a demon bath bomb, he begins to dissolve immediately.

| 

"Took them long enough!" Gabriel complains and gives Uriel a sign. Uriel then walks over to Crowley and removes the ropes they've used to bind Crowley's hands.

Finally, Crowley's able to do what he has seen Aziraphale do so many times before. He adjusts his bowtie and his coat.

"I don't suppose I can persuade you to reconsider?" he asks and smiles. "We're meant to be the good guys, for Heaven's sake!"

"Well, for _Heaven's_ sake, we are meant to make examples out of traitors. So..." His eyes wander over to the window. "We wait for the opposition to get ready, and then you go into the flame immediately."  
  
"Demon Crowley, you're sentenzzed to extinction by Holy Water. You got anything to zzay?"

"Well, yes. Uh, this is a new jacket, and I'd hate to ruin it. Do you mind if I take it off?"

They don't mind, so Aziraphale takes off his clothes, only to fold them properly and put them on a chair in the corner. He leaves his undershirt, socks, and knickers on, though.

| 

The quiet crackling of the Hellfire is the only sound in the room, as the five angels wait for Aziraphale-as-Crowley on the other side of the window to take off Crowley's clothes, one by one, folding each piece neatly together and placing it on a chair, until he's just in his underwear. And socks.

Oh dear.

It's nice of him, taking off his clothes, so they don't get wet, but if Crowley has to be honest, it looks a bit ridiculous.   
  
| 

Since when is he even wearing undershirts? It's 2019, he's not wearing undershirts anymore! Not in July, at least.  
  
For one second, Aziraphale's and Crowley's eyes meet. This is it. This is the moment of truth, the moment where they find out if they've interpreted Agnes' last prophecy right or if they will die.  
  
| 

Crowley can't help himself, he has to try it one last time.

"Lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion."

"Shut your stupid mouth and die already," Gabriel answers and forces a smile.

Crowley smiles back.

This holier-than-thou attitude is exactly one of the reasons why Crowley's glad that he's not an angel anymore. At least Hell's honest and always tells you to your face when they hate you. Heaven needs 6,000 years and the worst betrayal they can imagine to tell it to you. Poor Aziraphale, having to interact with these pricks whenever he's called up to Heaven. Crowley understands why he prefers to live down on Earth, in his bookshop.  
  
Aziraphale climbs into the bathtub.

| 

Crowley steps into the fire.  
  
It's cold as ice, but he pretends he doesn't notice.

| 

It's hot, but he doesn't mind.  
  
This is what should have happened:

Both should have melted within seconds.

This is what happened instead:  
  
Aziraphale-as-Crowley sits down comfortably in the tub and raises the temperature to one you can actually bathe in.

| 

Crowley-as-Aziraphale closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The warmth is like the embrace of silk sheets waiting for you after a very long day.  
  
The demons stare at him in horror. This is not what should have happened.

"He'zz gone native..." Beelzebub whispers. "He'zz no longer one of uzz."

| 

The angels stare at him in horror. This is not what should have happened.

"It's worse than we thought..." Gabriel says in horror.  
  
Aziraphale hums to himself and splashes some water towards the demons who back off in fear. Now if he just had a nice vintage and a good book, this could almost be enjoyable. But that's not what Crowley would ask for.

"I don't suppose that anywhere here is such a thing as a rubber duck?" he asks instead. A typical request from Crowley.

| 

Crowley cracks his neck, opens his eyes and looks straight at the angels. They look at each other in confusion but all Crowley does is smile. This is his moment of triumph. He has to show them, how bad it is with Aziraphale. He breathes a gout of Hellfire straight at the angels who back off in fear.

Uriel asks a question going through everyone's head right now. "What is he?"  
  
Not expecting an answer, Aziraphale leans towards his judges. "You're probably thinking 'If he can do this, I wonder what else he can do?' And very, very soon you're going to get the chance to find out."

"He's bluffing! We can take him!" Hastur growls as if he just hasn't witnessed Aziraphale's bath with his own eyes. "One demon against the rest of hell? What's he going to do?"

But Crowley isn't alone. He will have Aziraphale on his side, come what may.

But even without him, Beelzebub doesn't want to risk it. "Shut it!" he hisses. "Get him away from here. Thizz will cause a riot." He walks a few steps towards the demons. "Nothing to zzee here!"

The demons vanish.

| 

"We were right," says Sandalphon. "He is a bit of a fallen angel, we just didn't realize how bad it actually is."

Crowley's smile widens as he steps out of the fire, feeling as crisp as the day his body was made. His body, not Aziraphale's. Aziraphale's body feels more foamy, like fresh made angel cake.

"Now, Gabriel, Michael, I think it's time for us to talk business."

Michael presses his lips together while Gabriel makes a funny face. "What do you want?" he asks.

"Easy. You leave me, us, alone in the foreseeable future. Are we on the same page here?"

"I think," Gabriel begins but Michael interrupts him.

"Yes."  
  
"Now, if one of you would be so kind... no, not you, Hastur," Aziraphale begins as he miracles a towel into Dagon's hands. "I think it would be best for all of us, if you would leave us alone in the future. Don't you?"

When Beelzebub nods slightly, Aziraphale gives him one of Crowley's adorable smiles.

| 

"Yes," Gabriel repeats. "We'll leave you alone. Come, we need to discuss this."

With long strides, Gabriel and his fellow Archangels leave the room.

"Now that was something," Crowley says. He glances towards the pillar of Hellfire one last time before he looks over to the other side to see Aziraphale-as-Crowley smiling at the dark council.  
  
He climbs out of the bathtub and starts to use the towel to dry himself.

Without further comment the demon council leaves the room and leaves Aziraphale alone to dress himself.

| 

Everything turned out just fine.

Crowley smiles softly, watching Aziraphale carefully drying himself and getting dressed again.  
  
Aziraphale's eyes wander over to the other room. It's only him and Crowley who nods towards the door.

They meet each other in the hall. Crowley smiles at Aziraphale, and with a snap of his fingers, the last of his hair is dry again. When they change back later, they don't want Crowley to die immediately because some parts of him are still damp.

Aziraphale smiles back. He takes Crowley's hand and together they leave the building.


End file.
